I CHOOSE
...to love myself.
...to treat myself gently, with patience and respect.
...to accept responsibility for every aspect of my life.
...to be present, awake, aware.
...to be open to possibility.
...to leap with the intention of landing.
...to do amazing things.
My final day in Atlanta was wonderful-so much so that I figured it deserved one final post. Wendy and I went out for a tour about Decatur in her vintage VW Beetle. 
This is the car her parents drove before Wendy was born--and we're talking nearly 40 years ago. I have to say, it was pretty wild to ride in something so old.
That afternoon we skipped the final Target jaunt and headed to the Atlanta Botanical Garden for an exhibit featuring the art of Niki De Saint Phalle. She created incedible mosaic sculptures and they were scattered about the garden. Some of my favorite, larger than life piec
es were these: 
All that beautiful glass and stone work inspired me. So after we went to see The DaVinci Code and made it home again, I created my own sculpture:
Sunday, a day for rest and relaxation...both in abundance during this Hotlanta vacation. We had a slow start to the day, but we quickly made up for lost time.
First, we headed over to to this place I found online, Urban Tea Party. I was hoping it would be as cool as The Urban Tea Lounge that Dag took me to a few weeks ago. Alas, it was a disappointment in that they had very limited teas, less than friendly environment and jacked up prices for cups o' hot water with leaf juice. And since they steeped and tossed, you didn't get a free warm me up.
Our plan was to next hit a Super Target since they carry my favorite brand of add-to-a-water-bottle mix called Teaology. But we opted instead for a trip to the Decatur square for an arts festival. 
I was looking for jewelry and didn't really find anything. Wendy was excited to spot her favorite artist, James Dean, and his kooky Pete the Cat.
I was excited to spot a gazillion lesbians. It's been years (at least since living in Madison) since I've been surrounded by so many out women. I didn't realize how much I missed that. I practiced using my newly styled eyebrows and my anughty librarian glasses for flirting. Ha!
We eventually did make it to Super Target after a wonderful dinner with Wendy's mom, Barbara. She is lovely woman who tolerates her daughter and her daughter's friends very well. Truly gracious. The soothing effects of a great dinner and satisfying conversation eased the pain of not finding my favorite Teaology flavor. No fear...there's Monday yet for that treasure hunt.
Beginning the second full day of my stay in the balmy state of Georgia. I fluctuate from miserably chilled and uncomfortable to pleasantly warm and relaxed. Having lost a significant amount of insulation, I find I do not tolerate the arctic temps of air conditioning for long. Inside, I shiver. Outside, I bask.
I arrived in Hotlanta at least 12 hours early on Friday--I took my chances and flew standby. (And I had room and time to spare. Proof is in this picture.)
The uncertainty and early morning rising paid off. Better to land at 11:25 a.m. than 10:43 p.m. That gave us plenty of time to stock up on Cocktails by Jenn and plan our weekend. Of course, the limited availability of the red Cosmo cocktail bottle has us on mission. Must have red. Must have red. Must have red. (Must complete the charm collection, actually.)
Saturday we headed out for errand running and a scrumptious meal at The Flying Biscuit Cafe, where I gorged on a slice of Fried Green Tomatoe and a sassy little Black Bean Cake, topped off with four shots of espresso swirled in steamed half & half. Decadent, I know, but truly worth every savory bite. Wendy even let me snag a taste of her biscuit drenched in chicken gravy. 2-die-4! We were both happy campers. And here's the proof: 
After lunch, we continued with errands and headed on to the destination of the day: my first facial. Why the hell did wait so long? I was in H-E-A-V-E-N. Just look at the grin on my face. (And wait until you see my freshly waxed brows!)
Today we're making a run to the local Super Target so I can stock up onmy favorite Teaology drinks, then it's off to Wendy's mom's house for dinner. We have a few other tricks up our sleeves...and I'll leave it at that for now.
I'm flying to Atlanta in the morning to see Wendy again. No tattoos this time. Promise. My little chococat still isn't quite healed yet.
Plans for the weekend? Facials on Saturday. And nothing else. No commitments. No appointments. No responsibility. I love being able to run away and pretend that I'm living a whole new life.
This visit feels different already. The last time I was newly separated from Rose and feeling desperate for validation, understanding, comfort. This time I don't feel quite so anxious. I'm sure it's because I'm in a better place in my head and in my world. I'm glad (relieved) that I can say that. I didn't think I'd ever be able to.
If someone had told me when I was in fifth grade that the metric system meant you would weigh less, I might have worked harder at learning it.
I've been surfing a ton of weightloss blogs and found a bunch from the UK, Australia, South Africa, etc. And those fat chicks are damn lucky. Instead of weighing 185 pounds they only weigh 83 kilograms. Yep. They are already less than half my size and all they have to do is speak with an accent.
Here, let me prove it. Try this site.
I'm back from D.C. Good trip despite weird hotel stuff, rip-off cab rides and pain in the ass airport lines.
The highlight of the weekend was seeing my friend Judi. 
We met several years ago online and, although I can't remember when we first met in person, we hit it off right away. This time together, we had plenty of time to relax together and catch up. I got a sneak peek at her latest book, By The Batch. We chatted, watched television, ate delicious food, shopped and just enjoyed each other's company.
For the first time in a very, very long time, I did some creative work. I picked out some funky stamp designs, stamped them on postcards and just colored them in. I know, not much. But it felt like a start after so many months of doing nothing artistic at all. I feel motivated to get back to my studio and finish some of the projects I've been working on for ages.
And speaking of getting back, I'm back to my lowest weight since surgery...even a bit lower. I'm relieved. That was the first time I ever saw the scale go up and not come back down. It's too early for that to happen and I wasn't prepared to see it. Despite the flippant tone of my post, it was actually pretty traumatic for me. For lots of reasons. But it's over. I'm moving on...or down, as the case may be.
Late flight. Delayed.
Two Mary Kay chicks talking make-up across the aisle. 2-hours. Non-stop.
Even later arrival. No rooms in the inn. Another night on a sofa bed.
Thank god for the mini bar.
Last Thursday, Friday and Saturday I weighed in at 187 every morning. No clothes.
Monday it was 189. Tuesday 191. Today? Friggin' 193. What the hell is that all about?
Protein. Check.
Water. Check.
Carbs. Check.
The only thing I can think that I'm doing differently is eating carrots and apples and drinking tea.
I leave tomorrow for Washington DC for work. I'm not weighing again until Tuesday morning. I better not weigh an ounce above 187. Or this chick is going to start slicing the hot fat and we're gonna have us a clearance sale.
Had a great visit with the "original sassy sisters" this weekend. Made it home late Saturday afternoon and went to dinner. The planned movie was sidelined. I got a little knitting in instead.
Headed up to see my mom and grandma on Sunday. This is the first picture I've had taken with both of them since I don't know when. My Grandma Toots has been sporting the same hairdo since before I was born. Yes, I turn 39 this summer. My mom, bless her soul, has been styling it that long, too. Just in case, you're wondering...yes, those are my collarbones and no,I am not doing anything to make them stick out.
I'm nearing a new goal weight for myself. I'm now just 2 or so pounds away from what I weighed in this picture in April 1981. In the photo, from the front, left to right, are: 
my grandmother (dad's mom), me, my great-grandmother (my grandfather's mother). Behind her is my Grandma Toots, my mom's mother, and my Grandpa Wally, my mom's dad (son of the great-grandma in the front) and then my great-grandmother, who is Grandma Toot's mom.
How cool is that? My three other grandmother's in this photo are dead--they all died in the '90s.
Went shopping today and what did I buy? Why a new pair of denim capris in a size 18 MISSES. No more 18W for this sassy fatty! Now I'm just a regular ol' big girl.
Beautiful day here in Milwaukee. I took advantage of it by lacing up my walking shoes, snapping on the pedometer and hitting the pavement.
I thought I 'd head south and walk back through downtown. But after about 4 blocks, the lake was calling my name. I veered toward the war memorial, then headed down to Veteran's Park. At this point, I'd already walked about 1.5 miles.
To say I was pleased with my progress is an understatement. At one point, I looked around me and saw people walking, jogging, riding bikes, flying kits, lounging on blankets. I was overwhelmed. A year ago, I would have had trouble walking 2 blocks. I would have avoided being near these active, happy people. I would have missed this gorgeous day, that perfect moment because I was super morbidly obese and nearly paralyzed by my fear of walking in front of people.
But today, I savored the moment and let it be. My leg muscles stretched and warmed with each step. My back held me straight and proud. My throat clenched from the emotion of it. I cried as I walked and didn't care if people saw me--crying or walking. For the first time in a long time, I knew what it felt like to be present in my body, to be present in the moment. It was an exhilarating, freeing sensation. It was mine.
I walked the length of the part to McKinley Marina and then crossed over to Alterra for a decaf breve. I grabbed a cranberry almond scone--not because I was "sneaking" it, but because I knew I could control how much of it I ate. And that was less than half. After 20 minutes of soaking in the sun and chatting with a bench mate outside, I headed up the hill to Prospect Ave, then down to Knapp.
By the time I made it back to my apartment, I had tracked 3.13 miles. I've walked more on the treadmill. I've walked faster when I wanted to. But I've never walked in my own shoes before, never known what it's like to be ME just walking. Until today.
I added a guestbook. Sign it. It's just above the webring box at the the bottom.
Ok, I was more than a little drunk. But I'm not drunk now. And I don't have a hangover. Weird dreams, no hangover.
I'm a little drunk. A few glasses of Riesling will do that to you when your stomach is the size of a vienna wiener.
Damn, I had a good time, though.
I laughed at a guy when the waitress asked if I was buying his drink. He got pissed and went to pout at another table. Pussy boy.
I'm sure I'm going to feel like shit in the morning. But right now, I'm not feeling much of anything. And I'm loving it.
There are days that I feel like the ugliest cow in the world. But today wasn't one of them
For the first time in a while, I really, really liked myself. I had little sleep last night and woke up with the same headache I went to bed with. It could have been a crappy day. But I put on a new top and my too big pants--one of just 2 pairs of 18s I have--and headed out to work to face a day of quick turnarounds on a hot project.
Walking into work, I checked myself out in the glass door and realized that the new top looked good on me. Very good. I had on my stylin' new glasses, too. And the combination was like looking at a new face. Seriously.
Cutting through the lunchroom on my way to my office I saw myself in the large windows again. Not too bad. I felt good about myself.
The best part? Other people noticed. Lots of people. At least 6 people commented on how I looked today. Usually I get irritated by that. Not today. They were right. I DID look good. Three of those 6 people said I looked "thin". THIN! No one in my entire life has ever said I look thin. And now I get it 3 times in one day.
The comments were really just the icing on the sugar-free cake. The fact is, I noticed that I looked good. I realized that I AM looking thin. This is a big deal, kids. I don't suck. I'm not a big pig. I'm not a fat cow. Today, I'm a normal looking woman who turns heads because she's confident, secure and attractive--not because she's the biggest thing in the world. Sweet.
es were these: 
